Sukriti Taneja
…
Who is a Brother? A beacon of support? A role model? Or a best friend for life?
Within the context of ‘society’ as we know it, the term ‘brother” is immediately associated with the idea of shared DNA, or family lineage. Literature, though cannot pinpoint the origin, sings the telltale of the term ‘chosen family’. And so is the journey of my relationship with my brother, Snehil.
Our paths first crossed when I moved to the UK for my master’s degree. Life, in its unpredictable way, placed us in the same course. Initially, we harboured biases and preconceived notions about each other – Snehil, an ambitious self-made photographer from Bihar, and myself, an aspiring photographer and budding writer from Delhi, raised with the privilege of supportive and understanding parents who had the means to nurture my dreams. Yet, life has a wonderfully funny way of nudging people together. Casual interactions during coffee breaks and chilling sessions with our classmates soon transformed into deep conversations about life, philosophy, and our dreams. What started as a hesitant friendship blossomed into a profound brotherhood, built on mutual respect and genuine care.
Whether it was spending a casual Saturday evening drinking beer, motivating each other to hit the gym after a long day at work, or lounging on my apartment couch for three days straight during assignment season, we experienced it all together. Even when we returned home for vacations, our conversations and gossip sessions seamlessly transitioned to virtual platforms. Our bond with each other naturally extended to include each other’s families and friends alike.
Like any close brotherhood, we eventually became flatmates, ticking that off our bucket list. Through multiple victories and moments of sadness, our bond only grew stronger. The only item left unchecked on our list was a trip together. Being as ambitious as we are, a neighbouring city in the UK wouldn’t have sufficed. Naturally, Montenegro, a country that had long been on both our bucket lists, became our top choice.
In the heart of the Balkans lies Montenegro, a land of rugged mountains, medieval villages, and a coastline that kisses the Adriatic Sea. This was the stage for my latest adventure; it was a multifaceted journey of exploring a new destination, meeting new people, broadening our perspectives, partying, endless photography sessions, and refreshing swims. However, looking back, I realise that this trip demanded a different perspective – a bond forged not by blood, but by fate and shared experiences.
During our trip, our first stop was Podgorica, the capital city of Montenegro. We decided to hire a car to make traveling easier. Since I was the only experienced driver among us, the responsibility naturally fell on my shoulders. However, driving on the left side of the road for the first time felt strange and a bit nerve-wracking. Despite my apprehensions, my brother showed unwavering confidence in me and took the passenger seat beside me. As we listened to endless Bollywood songs and shared jokes, we eventually reached our first destination safely.
The next day, we were off to Budva, known as the party town of Montenegro. After checking into our dreamlike AirBnB, my inner water baby couldn’t wait any longer to feel the sand between my toes. As we lounged around the beach, we spotted a high cliff about 800 meters away. Without hesitation, we decided to go cliff-jumping into the sea.
The rocky and slippery path up to the perfect cliff-jumping spot felt like an accomplishment in itself after the 20-minute trek. Despite being an experienced swimmer, or at least I liked to think so after investing much of my parents’ money on swimming lessons (which they still joke didn’t teach me to swim like a human, but rather like a puppy), the 30-feet jump had adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I took a run-up and stopped at the edge, momentarily hesitating as I saw the rocks beneath the clear blue water. Encouraged by a passing boatman, I took the plunge, calling on my god’s name. The satisfaction as I resurfaced was indescribable.
Snehil, on the other hand, wasn’t a swimmer by any stretch of the imagination. Despite his adrenaline junkie tendencies, he hesitated at the edge, unsure if he would survive the jump. Ironically, as I calmly floated in the water after my jump, I encouraged him to take the leap, promising that I’d not let him drown. To my surprise, he did it.
As I helped him swim back to shore, laughter echoing around us, I knew that this blind faith and trust were mutual. In that moment, feeling more alive than ever, we shared a bond that words could hardly capture.
As I write this, I am struck by the realisation that relationships, much like travel, are journeys of discovery. My brother has been my compass in more ways than one, guiding me through the complexities of life away from the comfort of home.
Having grown up listening to my parents and their closest friends narrate tales of their teenage and early 20s, we would often laugh together sitting in the comfort of our home or theirs whenever an opportunity to catch up arose. It is now that I understand, looking at my parents and their enduring friendships, how the chosen family runs through all of us.
The beauty of a chosen family lies in standing tall for each other against life’s trials, holding each other up in moments of weakness, cheering the loudest in celebrations, and passing on the bond of love and support for generations to come.
Whether forged by blood or by choice, each connection holds the potential to enrich our life in ways we might never have imagined. And perhaps, like us, you’ll find that the most meaningful adventures are those shared with the ones who understand you the most.